


Maternal Instincts Defy Blood

by LogicIsGod327



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Awkward Walk-Ins, Bullying, Evan Hale comes from a giant fucking pack, Fluff, M/M, Maternal Relationships, Mugging, Talia Hale is a fucking badass, Talia saw everything, because why not, mild violence, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 19:03:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4888417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LogicIsGod327/pseuds/LogicIsGod327
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Talia Hale was surprised the day her son brought home a boy at least two years younger than him who was shaking like a leaf and smelled like a combination of fear and curiosity, but Stiles would integrate into their lives almost seamlessly.</p><p>OR</p><p>Five moments in the unique relationship Stiles and Talia share plus an extra to wrap it all up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maternal Instincts Defy Blood

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on a whim and it ate me alive in the best way possible. I hope you enjoy and please leave a review, they make me a happy little writer.

I-  
The first time Stiles Stilinski met Talia Hale, he was downright terrified, and reasonably so. The Hales had been notoriously reclusive for centuries, and Talia was an almost mythological figure, rarely sighted and even more rarely spoken to. She was supposedly as cold as ice and as sharp as tempered steel.

God, were the rumors wrong. When Derek tenuously led him in through the kitchen door of the Hale house, he immediately saw Talia on her hands and knees...

With a toddler riding on her back. 

"Faster, Auntie Tala, faster!" The aforementioned toddler shrieked delightedly.

"Oh, Derek, you're back!" Talia said, clearly a little winded. She picked the squirming little boy off of her back, and balanced him on her hip. "And you've brought a friend. Laura will be impressed." She smirked almost conspiratorially at Stiles. 

"Mom, this is Stiles. My... boyfriend." Derek said hesitantly. Stiles, in return, gave a half-hearted little wave.

"Oh, I know." She said, simply, reaching into a cabinet and pulling out two mugs.

"How?! Have you been paying Jake to follow me like Cora did?" He demanded.

Talia smiled wistfully at her youngest son. "Stiles tends to, as you kids would say, 'blow up your phone' while you are in the shower. Now, I, being the one who pays your phone bill, have a right to know who's eating up your texts. I figured it out around the third 'babe' he sent you." She set the boy down on the kitchen tile, and told him to go find his mother. "Coffee, Stiles?" She asked.

"Uh, yes please?" He looked questioningly to Derek, who nodded subtly. "Lots of cream and sugar, if you have it, ma'am." He said.

"You have better taste in coffee than my husband, Stiles. How he drinks it black I do not know." She shook her head fondly. “Derek, go do your chemistry homework, you know how Harris gets. I want to have a little one on one with Stiles here.” At that, Stiles paled noticeably. “Oh, relax, I won’t bite.” She smiled at him. 

“Might be easier if you did…” Derek muttered under his breath. Talia gave a subvocal growl she knew only Derek would hear. 

“Homework, now, young man.” She ordered, pleased as her son stalked off to his room.

She poured the coffee in a pregnant silence, and offered Stiles his cup. “Sit with me in my study.” Talia said.

“I’m not going to interrogate you for information or your intentions for my son. He’s old enough to make his own choices. I just want to know more about the boy who has Derek so enamored. Now, how did you two meet?”

+

Fifteen agonizing minutes later, Derek finally finished his homework and, not for the first time and certainly not for the last, cursed his mother for having Deaton magically soundproof her office.  
He almost sprinted through the house, firmly ignoring Laura’s wicked, delighted cackle. He opened the door to Talia’s study without bothering to knock, where he was instantly bombarded by the sound of hysterical laughter, and his worst nightmares came true. His mother, Satan’s bride, had cracked open the baby books.

“So you’re telling me he’s always scowled?!” Stiles laughed delightedly. “Even as a newborn?” He looked about ready to fall out of his seat and onto Talia’s antique rug brought over from England and across the New World to Beacon Hills.

Talia herself was in a similar state, laughing silently and pointing to an image of her after she had just had Derek. She looked absolutely exhausted, but radiated pride. There, in her arms, was a tiny little red-faced bundle of Derek that, only a few hours old, was scowling. 

For just a brief moment, Derek lost control, and bared his teeth at his mother, who only laughed harder.

“Oh, Derek! Don’t be such a child. Everyone has embarrassing baby photos, even your father and I. And don’t worry, he saw the photo of Laura stuck in a giant chicken statue’s arms.” Talia said. At that, Derek felt incrementally better. “You, my son,” She said, now standing up and grabbing Derek by the shoulders, “Have picked out an absolutely wonderful young man. He’s welcome anytime.” 

Derek maintains, to this day, that he did not do a victory dance. He really didn’t!

II-  
After his initial encounter with Talia, Stiles was invited to stay for dinner at the Hale house, which meant that a thirteenth chair had to be squeezed between Derek’s and Laura’s, which Cora was painfully annoyed about, she hated having an uneven number of chairs at the table. Nonetheless, it was a fabulous dinner for Stiles. Evan, Derek’s intimidating as all Hell father, was a wonderful cook, a fact Stiles emphasized throughout the meal.

A few weeks later, Derek’s birthday was fast approaching, and Stiles went to the one person in the Hale house he was well and truly comfortable with, besides the birthday boy himself, of course.

“Talia?” He approached her one afternoon while Derek was working at the local mechanic shop.

“Stiles, how wonderful of you to drop by! How can I help you?” She asked.

“I need your help with something for Derek’s birthday. I was wondering if you knew of anything he particularly liked or wanted?” He asked hesitantly. Talia smiled brightly, and motioned for Stiles to follow her. She lead him out behind the house to the sprawling auto complex the Hales referred to as the garage. She walked him past countless vehicles, and Stiles, being fifteen and Google savvy, figured out that the total value of all the vehicles was somewhere in the range of about two million dollars.

Finally, at the very end of the building, was a sleek, black 2015 Porsche 918 Spyder, and Stiles almost died at the sight of it. “That’s yours…?” He stuttered out weakly. She grinned widely.

“Get in, we’re going shopping.” 

He obeyed without second thought.

+

Birthdays and holidays were not things to be trifled with in the Hale household. Balloons, streamers and a literal buffet of all of Derek’s favorite foods came into the giant manor. Packs, or, to Stiles, family friends, came from across the country to bear witness to Derek Hale’s seventeenth birthday, offering gifts, cards and well-wishes galore.

There was one guest in particular whom Stiles was not a fan of, a very handsy girl Derek’s age who kept pestering him. “Who is that tramp?” He said to himself, and was startled to hear Laura reply smoothly.

“Eli Corvelle, she’s had a crush on Derek since before time itself. It’d be pathetic if it weren’t so damn funny. But don’t worry, my little idiot brother only has eyes for your scrawny ass.” She tostled Stiles’ hair.

“Thanks, Laura.” He muttered.

When the time came for gifts to be opened, Derek received over a thousand dollars worth of iTunes cards, several very expensive Swiss watches, an Armani peacoat and a job offer at a tech firm in Orlando when he finished college. Stiles felt way outdone, expecting Derek to laugh at his humble little gift. When Derek pulls out the small necklace with a wolf pendant attached, as well as a handwritten love note from Stiles, he rushes to his boyfriend and gathers him in a searing kiss.

Meanwhile, Laura, Cora and Talia delight in hearing Eli growl in anger and disappointment.

III-  
Stiles found out about werewolves when he and Talia were out to lunch one day. They’d tried to make it a weekly thing, alternating between payments despite Talia’s assurances she could afford a weekly lunch at Mae’s Diner, but Stiles would not be dissuaded. He’d earned his money working at a store in town and he intended to use it. The reason Talia and Stiles went out to lunch was that she’d become something a therapist to him, being able to empathize with losing a parent at a young age when her father died in a car crash. They also simply enjoyed each other’s company.

As they left, they wandered through a shortcut alley that lead back to the parking garage a couple of streets over. Halfway down, of all things, a mugger appeared out of an additional side alley, pointing a knife at both of them.

“Give me your purse and your wallet, now!” He’d loudly demanded. “I said now, lady!” He repeated when Talia made no intention of releasing the handbag she carried with her. Instead, she only raised an eyebrow defiantly and retorted.

“You have ten seconds to go back down that alley.” She said, taking a step forward. 

“What’d you say to me, bitch?!” The mugger yelled, clearly caught off guard.

“Talia, do as he says.” Stiles ordered from behind her. When Talia took another step forward, the mugger made a move to cut her throat. Talia’s werewolf reflexes let her block the move, and she roared directly into the assailant’s face, fully wolfed-out. Picking the robber up by the scruff of his neck, she pinned him against the brick wall.

“You tell anyone what happened here, and I will hunt you down in the middle of the night and eat you for a midnight snack!” She snarled, before throwing him a great distance down the alley he’d emerged from. She turned, eyes still red but otherwise human, to Stiles, who was shaking like a leaf.

“Oh, Stiles, honey…” She started, but was interrupted by him raising a hand.

“One: What are you? Two: Whatever you are, is Derek and/or the rest of the Hales one too? Three: Are you gonna eat me?” He said, voice tremoring on the last question. She smiled, and gently touched his shoulder.

“I, along with my husband and Derek and his brother and sisters, am a werewolf. And no, I’m not going to eat you.” She said.

“So… I’m dating a werewolf. And here I was thinking I only had to worry about the fact that I’m actually poorer than dirt poor and he’s richer than God. Well, I mean, this is like Twilight if the supernatural elements were reversed. My dad’s even a cop, for Christ’s sake! Call me Bella!” He chuckled incredulously. “So, now that I’m in the know, are you gonna like bite me or something, because my dad will so not be okay with that?”

“I would never bite someone against their will. Although, you can imagine the need for secrecy, right?” Stiles nodded to her silently. “Good, let’s head back. I don’t like it here.”

+

 

Derek came home from work to a giant black wolf in his backyard, and Stiles watching animatedly as it ran from tree to tree chasing a very frightened chipmunk.

“Stiles, get in the house! Where’s everyone else?!” He demanded, trying to act panicked and wondering what the everloving Hell his mother was thinking, being shifted in front of his very human boyfriend. Stiles walked up, pressed a languid kiss to Derek and smiled up at him.

“It’s okay, Sourwolf, I know. We almost got mugged and your mom had to shift to protect us. But why didn’t you tell me?!” He demanded, now clearly irritated.

“I was worried the whole, ‘I’m a mythological creature’ thing would scare you off. I mean, call me crazy, but it tends to bother most people.” Derek said, only a little coarsely.

“I was a fourteen year old freshman-” 

“You still are a freshman, Stiles.” Derek cut him off.

“Shut up, Derek, I’m trying to have a moment. Anyway, I was a fourteen year old freshman dumb enough to try and woo a junior, one who had the word ‘Untouchable’ practically tattooed on his forehead, to boot, and it worked. You really think, especially after dealing with Laura for the past nine months, that I’m gonna be driven off because you periodically turn into a dog? Hell, to the no!” 

And that was that.

IV-  
Stiles was not sulking. He really wasn’t. He was just bitter as Hell that he would be losing Derek his Junior year, and with summer break just around the corner and their finals done, they decided that Stiles would accompany Derek in the annual tradition of the all day study halls for seniors when finals were done with. 

He’d met Derek’s friends last year, and he liked the decently enough. Erica, he’d found terrifying in her own beautiful way, and Boyd he could, to quote himself, bro out with. They were all lounging on the quad, and lunch was about to start. They headed towards the cafeteria when none other than Jackson Whittemore, Stiles’ personal terror since elementary school, appeared reeking of awful cologne and cockiness, a cocktail Derek called, ‘vomit inducing’.

“Hey, Stilinski…” Jackson drawled, clearly unaware Derek was around the corner. “Your boyfriend off being emo elsewhere? Good, I’ve been meaning to get you alone long enough to-" But he got no further. Jackson was met by about 200 pounds of very pissed off Derek, who had, in one leap, broken out three teeth, broken his nose and fractured a collarbone. It took three police officers to haul a snarling and yellow-eyed Derek off of Jackson.

With the Sheriff out of town at a conference and his mother no longer among the living, Talia came in on behalf of both Derek and Stiles, hugging the bloodied boys. Jackson's flailing limbs had caught Stiles, not breaking his nose but giving him a decent nosebleed. The accidental blow also further fueled Derek's rage.

”Mrs. Hale, I'm sure you are aware that this is a very serious matter. Your son tackled and injured Mr. Whittemore, this is absolutely unacceptable." The principal began.

"Let me stop you right there, Mr. Fenris. Jackson Whittemore has ALWAYS had a problem with Stiles, in spite of countless reports made by him, Derek, Sheriff Stilinski and myself regarding the abuse, which has been particularly vicious this year. When Jackson threatened Stiles, Derek was within earshot of it, and acted in defense of his boyfriend. You should be lecturing Mr. Whittemore about how he raised his son to think about it is acceptable to abuse another person." Talia said, harsher than either boy had ever heard her before. "Boys, outside. Mr. Fenris and I are going to have a discussion."

When Talia emerged a few moments later, both boys had a formal apology from the school and the next day off.

V-   
Stiles was finally graduating. He was 18, life was good, and he was ready to be done with high school forever. Derek, Melissa, the Sheriff, and the entire Hale family (Peter included) was in the crowd of people watching the Class of 2018 cross the stage. The howls and whistles of more than a dozen Hales at his and Scott's name being called made the two seniors blush, and, after Lydia's incredible valedictorian speech, Stiles whooped at the top of his lungs, throwing his cap into the air. Painted on the top of his cap was the triskelion that Derek had tattooed on his upper back, as well as Stiles had as his tramp stamp. 

Talia marched up to him, decorum be damned, and kissed loudly him on the cheek, followed in a close second by Melissa, a proud hug from his father, a bro hug from Scott, and, finally, a glorious tongue and teeth kiss from Derek.

Derek had finally finished two years of Beacon Hills Community College, and he and Stiles would be traveling across the country to Siena University in upstate New York, where Derek would major in mechanical engineering and Stiles in biogenetic science. Derek had even secured them an off campus apartment, so they wouldn't know the struggles of dorm living. He refused that one. 

Talia took both boys out to dinner that night, smiling proudly at the young man so different from tenuous little freshman her son had brought home all those years ago. 

"Stiles, we're all so proud of you, we want you to have this." Talia said, pulling the keys to some type of vehicle Stiles imagined to be outrageously expensive. He was right. The Hales had bought him a 2020 (TWO model years early!!!!) Tesla S. He almost fainted at the sight of the low, black electric car in the parking lot.

As he drove (raced) to the Hale house where his graduation party was to be held, he delighted in the smooth, silent handling of the vehicle that was now his. Pulling into the driveway, he noted the strings of lights hanging from the various trees, balloons and streamers on nearly every available surface. He parked in the hanger, as he called it. Garage just seemed too mild a word to describe the building, which had more square footage than many houses in town. 

Derek, naturally, was the first to greet him, followed by Laura, as mawkish as ever. Then, in the background, stood an older, more emotive version of Derek. His older brother, Darren. Evan and Talia had a thing for siblings with similar names, Stiles learned early on. Speaking of Evan, he came up and actually hugged Stiles, something he hadn't done since an incident involving a Darach, several very angry trees, a possessed Prius and Peter's hair gel. 

"We're proud of you, Stiles. I have to admit, when Derek brought you to us those years ago, I didn't expect much of you. But not only have you taken all the other things in stride, but you've been a great friend to, well, everyone here, even Peter, and that's a hard feat to accomplish. You're always considered part of the pack, got it?" He asked.

"Evan, I... I don't know what to say. That's the most emotional you've ever been with me. Wow." Stiles stuttered out.

"Don't mention it, I have a reputation to maintain." He smirked.

As the evening went on, all of the very underage teenagers raided the Hales' alcohol supply, and some with wolfsbane was provided for the werewolves, so they could all get equally shit faced. Somewhere around 1:30 AM, as the last of the guests were either passing out or leaving in a practical army of taxis the Hales had called for their inebriated guests, Stiles remembered one of the more practical gifts Talia had gotten him for his birthday.

Much as was done with her office, as a present to both Stiles and Derek since they were both legally adults now, she'd had Deaton sound and scent-proof Derek's bedroom and bathroom.

"We really should get to bed, Der..." He whispered drunkenly to Derek, who promptly picked him up and carried him all the way out from the fire pit in the backyard to his bedroom. Just as he was opening the back door, he heard Cora's drunken call.

"Woo, get some, big brother!" 

He snarled back in response.

+1  
It was their first break since starting at Siena as part of the 2018-19 school year, and Talia and the others had intended to surprise them by dropping by and spending Thanksgiving with Evan's mother Rosalie in Lake George. Instead, Talia, who had a key to their apartment, entered to find her son balls deep in his boyfriend of five years.

"Good god, Mom!" Derek screeched, sounding utterly debauched. He nearly flew across the room, desperately trying to find a blanket to hide his shame with. Stiles, conversely, just let his head fall in shame to the couch. 

"I knew that something was up when you said you were handling our flight plans. You should have called, Mo- Talia." He said, quickly moving to cover himself, both literally and metaphorically. 

Even at the incredible awkwardness of the situation, Talia's heart softened considerably at that.

She tousled his hair a bit, "You can call me Mom, if you want to, Stiles." She said, ever so softly. "You've been a part of this family for years."

Derek returned, dressed and offering Stiles his wrinkled and messy clothing, which he put on beneath the blanket he was covering himself with.

"Now that we've got the awkwardness and the schmoop out of the way, how come you're here? We were supposed to come back west to spend Thanksgiving with you." Derek questioned.

Talia helped herself to a can of soda from the fridge and sat on the couch they hadn't just been violating. 

"We all decided we're spending Thanksgiving at your grandmother's house in Lake George, we don't see her nearly enough. Also, Hunter activity in the region is stepping up, we're hoping that word of the Hale Pack being in the area will give them pause." 

"Who's doing the hunting?" Stiles asked, immediately concerned.

"A rogue cell from Ireland. I guess they violated the Hunter's Code and were exiled, which is a violation of the Treaty of 1924 with the Hunters. Any person or cell who violates the Code is supposed to be killed." Talia sighed. "It's a political clusterfuck. We're hoping to sit down and renegotiate on the summer solstice in June."

“Sounds just ducky. But, c’mon, it’s almost Thanksgiving, and we need one day a year of not being chased down!” Stiles smiled. “Let’s have some fun!” 

“You’re right. Boys, pack your bags, we’re going to stay at your grandmother’s estate. Everyone else is already there, and we have Deaton watching the house.” Talia ordered.

A few minutes later, the two men emerged with their duffle bags packed and a bit more cleaned up. Still, the whole apartment reeked of sex. As they all packed their bags into Talia’s rental, she sniffed one bag suspiciously.

“Stiles, I can smell the lube in this.” She deadpanned.

Stiles was totally unapologetic.

+

Rosalie Collins was, by no means, a young woman. She’d had her youngest son Evan very late in life, so she was pushing ninety as her son passed his forty-fifth birthday. But Rosalie had the largest pack in all of North America, a veritable lycanthropic army at 158. She owned a private “campground” with a glorious view of the Adirondack mountains, overlooking Lake George.

When the Talia, Stiles and Derek arrived at the estate, wolves in varying states of shift walked about openly, the one place they could truly be themselves. Rosalie herself was fully human, standing on the porch of her and her husband Michael’s cabin. 

“Talia, darling, how are you?” She walked up and kissed her daughter in law on the cheek.

“Fine, mom. How are you?” 

“Just wonderful. Well, c’mon, let’s get your bags inside.”

The next day, Thanksgiving was an affair to behold. Dozens of long tables organized in the central lodge, which was filled with all manner of stuffed creatures from an eagle that had died at the camp to a moose that took three wolves to bring it down.

The chatter of 170+ werewolves was not to be underestimated. It was incredibly loud, but in the greatest way possible. All in all, there were fifty turkeys cooked, over 300 potatoes all mashed together, enough cranberry jelly to drown a person in, and so much bread Stiles could feel the carbs from across the room. It was glorious.

+

After break, the boys returned to classes for a brief couple of weeks, and then the month-long Christmas break rolled around. The Hales invaded Rosalie's compound once again, where they enjoyed the holidays in the snow-capped peaks of the Adirondacks alongside their massive extended family. On Christmas Eve, Derek offered Stiles a ring, made of a platinum with and onyx gemstone and asked the question.

"Stiles, will you marry me?" He'd said under the mistletoe as snow drifted down from the sky outside.

"Yes!" Stiles cried triumphantly, totally not doing a victory dance. 

Hours later, as Derek went off to his and Stiles' room in the main house, Talia grabbed Stiles and lead him back to the now empty living room.

"Now that you two are engaged, I'm going to offer you something. Stiles, you know what this means and that there's no going back when this starts. Would you like the bite?" She asked.

"As long as Derek has no objections, absolutely. I've been wanting to approach you about it for a while, so I'm glad you spared me the awkwardness of it." He smirked. 

"Good. Go talk it out with him, and we'll set a date."

"Why not tonight?" Stiles asked her. "I see no reason why not to. The sooner, the better." And with that, he went to talk it out.

+

Derek had agreed vehemently, and Stiles was more than happy to approach Talia about it. The wolves all celebrated the best way they knew: wolfsbane alcohol. As a bare sliver of moon rose over the snowy mountains, Talia took Stiles and Derek to a nearby clearing off from the camp at the peak of the mountain.

"You're both sure of this?" She asked. "There's no going back after we start." 

Stiles looked up from the blanket they'd put down for him to lie on, and nodded.

"I'm ready, Mom." He said.

As Derek held his right hand, Talia took his left one, and raised his forearm to her lips. She looked up at Stiles, his gaze unwavering.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

Talia bit directly into the flesh of his arm, and Stiles wailed, his eyes flashing gold for a brief moment, and the transformation began.

The night was a long one, Stiles muttering in his sleep and Derek alternating between pacing their bedroom and holding Stiles' hand as he had incredibly odd dreams.

When morning came, the transformation was over, and Stiles was officially a werewolf. The packs celebrated, and Evan even hugged him again, the second time in less than twenty four hours.

As a new moon rose, Stiles delighted in running buckwild across the Adirondacks, his growls and snarls echoing among those of his pack's, his family's. Being a werewolf suited Stiles even better than humanity had, and loved every second of it.

Five years after he first asked Derek out, Stiles finally settled into the world in which he belonged.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. I really didn't know where I was taking this, but boy, did it go places. I thought that had Stiles ever met Talia, they'd get along like a house on fire, and I guess my writing brain agreed. I hope you liked it, I know it's not THAT great, but leave a review anyway? Please?


End file.
